


Plastered

by velvetcat09



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Crack, Drunkenness, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 17:52:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/689777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetcat09/pseuds/velvetcat09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things happened when you're with a drunken Eames, especially if you're Dom Cobb.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plastered

**Author's Note:**

> This is just so crack I can't even--  
> Made this a year ago, redoing it just because it seems fun. Enjoy!

Arthur was in the kitchen, with a laptop on his lap and a chair tipped backward. His fingers were typing something on the search bar when his phone rang. Cursing anyone that called him in this such moment, eventually he answered.

"Arthur," somehow he wasn't surprised that Dom called him. In the middle of the night. Not to mention it was New Year's Eve; or judging by the clock, New Year already.

"Yes?"

"It's Eames." oh, yes, what else would he expect. Of course it's Eames. That man had gone for a drink with Dom, celebrating the New Year at a bar. Arthur was also invited, but of course he declined. They were in the middle of a job after all, not to mention they haven't got much information of the mark while the deadline was due next week.

"Oh, he threw up? Flirting with some chicks? Singing on the stage?"

"Ah, perhaps you don't want to know–But I can assure you, none of that happens." Arthur raised an eyebrow, but didn't bother to ask further.

"So, is there anything you want?" Dom sighing is a bad signal, always is. Expecting the worse seems quite a reaction for Arthur.

"Just pick him up. The same bar when we met years ago."

Arthur stared at his phone for a moment, then picked his car's key and grabbed his coat. Cursing won't do much, he drove to the bar with his mouth shut.

–

Dom glances at Eames, who was sitting beside him, face on the table. He just sighed, somehow relieved with the fact that Eames was now asleep; or seemed like it, didn't matter. He was expecting a pleasant night at a bar with his old friends; or friend. He was expecting to spend the New Year Eve with laughter, not _this_. What happened a few hours ago was _surprising_. He didn't expect such _conversation_.

–

Dom invited Eames and Arthur for a drink at a bar. Eames, of course agreed to go, drinking with his mate is never on his must-resist-thing list. Arthur rejected, they had a job after all, and drinking while on work is on his must-resist-thing list. Dom was half-expecting Arthur would come anyway. He and Eames had spent their first two shots having a normal conversation. Unfortunately, their _normal_ conversation didn't last longer than an hour. Eventually, their topic turned weirder when somehow, Dom mentioned Arthur. He hadn't been expecting such reaction from drunk Eames.

"Arthur, he's the best at his job, isn't he?"

"Oh, of course. Even in bed, he's still the best." Dom choked on his beer.

"–What?"

"You know what I mean, of course." he knew that Eames and Arthur were now together, but hearing one of them telling how good the other's on bed was quite distracting, especially when one-both of them happens to be your co-workers. That's weird.

It was when Eames finished his sixth shot, that things got even more weird; or disgusting, perhaps uncontrollable.

"Hey, Dom, did you know that Arthur was a virgin?"

"Wha–?" he choked on his beer, again.

"Well, now he's not. His first time was after the job in London. In fact, in my apartment!"

"Eames, I think that's an unnecessary information–"

"And I must say, he's amazing. His hip, slender like a lady. And fingers clutching my hair, legs clinging on me. Oh, you know what? He's so fucking damn tight!"

"Eames,"

"He's so damn tight that it takes longer to _warm up._ And who knows that he has the most fucking hot moans? I mean, his voice! _Oh, God_."

"Eames–"

"Man, you should've seen his face. That Arthur; the emotionless guy, damn, his face, _all red!_ " Eames laughed, histerically if his actions of slamming the table counted.

"Hey, Eames–"

"Oh, and the way he whimpered beneath me. So fucking hot. Especially when he moaned my name!"

"Eames, stop,"

"Despite it's his first time, he wanted it faster, even harder!"

"Stop,"

"And when he come, he hid his face with the pillow. You should've seen how adorable his face is. So fucking edible, man."

"Eames,"

"His expression, those hazel eyes fogged with lust. Just by looking at his eyes, you know you can't resist him."

"Eames."

"Oh, did I say you how hot his voice is?"

"Eames!"

"Yes, mate?"

"Stop."

"Stop what?"

"Stop telling me."

"Telling you what?"

"Telling... _that._ "

"That what?"

"You know what, let's talk about the economy." Dom didn't notice that Eames was grinning before he ordered his seventh shot. And little did Eames know, that Dom was already half-hard down there.

–

"So, what _happened_?"

"Drinks, conversations, laughs, _things_ happened."

"What conversation?"

"Oh, just the things that happened after the job in London." Arthur glanced at him, a questioning expression on his face.

"What things?"

"You know. You, me, my apartment." Eames grined when Arthur nearly crashed his car. Especially at his darling's horror expression.

Arthur didn't say anything until they reached his apartment. Even until both of them lie on Arthur's bed, he still didn't say anything. Eventually, Arthur opened his mouth after two minutes on the bed.

"You're not that drunk, you know that."

"It's just fun to tease that old man. You should've seen his reaction, darling." Eames chuckled when Arthur elbowed the other's hip before turning his back to sleep.

"Go to sleep, Mr. Eames."


End file.
